


I can hear you dreaming

by tazernkaner



Series: I'll make sure to keep my distance [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Patrick plays for Buffalo, World Cup of Hockey 2016, jonny plays for chicago, they keep doing the distance thing, this is so angsty i'm so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 06:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12126732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tazernkaner/pseuds/tazernkaner
Summary: “Two weeks, Jonny,” Patrick smirks as he pats Jonny’s cheek with his palm. “You sure you aren't going to get sick of me?”Jonny swallows back the hell no that threatens to spill embarrassingly from his lips. He shrugs, feigning casual and says “I think I can handle it.”(Jonny and Patrick get two glorious weeks together during the World Cup.)





	I can hear you dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> The WCH holds a special place in my heart, as I flew across the country to go watch and got a high five from Jonny on the red carpet. 
> 
> This is the second of 5 parts, I think. As I work on other parts, I get more ideas for this Jonny/Patrick. So we’ll see how the story continues. The next part is either Sochi, or their first allstar game. Not sure which should come next. 
> 
> I would recommend reading the first part, first :)

_International hockey._ There's just something about it: lacing up your skates while wearing the jersey of your country, knowing the whole nation is there in support of you.

 

Jonny loves being a Hawk, it's who he is and he has every plan to retire with this franchise. But there's still something a little bit magical about playing for Team Canada, no matter how many tournaments he's got under his belt.

 

Jonny’s ready to leave it all out on the ice and give his everything to represent his country. It's his primary focus and main priority, no matter what Sharpy says.

 

If he just so happens to get to spend some extra time with Patrick in between, well that's just a bonus.

 

“You're jittery,” Crow comments as the plane begins its descent.

 

Jonny didn't realize he’d been tapping his foot. He stops immediately.

 

It's been eight months since he’d seen Patrick. And now they're just hours away from being in the same city, same arena.

 

It's overwhelming.

 

“You're not nervous, are you?” Crow twists in his seat, eyes narrowing as he scrutinizes Jonny.

 

“Of course not,” he scoffs, smoothing out the creases in his dress pants. It's not a lie, not _really_. Crow means nervous about the tournament, and Jonny’s not. He's confident in the team Canada has assembled, stacked with the best of the best in every position. And he's trained hard this summer; determined to increase his scoring. He's ready for this.

 

But... He hasn't seen Patrick in _eight months._ Which subsequently means he hasn't gotten laid in eight months.

 

Eight months is a long time; long enough for Patrick to have met someone.

 

Long enough for him to have met someone and fallen in love, to be committed and no longer want anything to do with Jonny.

 

Jonny has never been interested in that sort of thing; not now, anyway, while his life is so filled with hockey and anything would need to remain a secret anyway. But sometimes he gets the feeling that Patrick may want it. Something real, more than just a few casual hookups throughout the year.

 

When that day comes, when Patrick finds someone he wants to be with, Jonny will respect it. He will be happy for him, cut off all ties and let him live his life. Even if that meant he would be reduced to celibacy.

 

He just hopes that day isn't today.

 

“Sharpy warned me you may act weird,” Crow accuses, breaking Jonny from his thoughts.

 

“I'm not acting weird!” He snaps back. _Fucking Sharpy_ , has to find a way to torment him from another country. Now he's going to have Crow watching him carefully the whole trip.

 

Crow keeps staring at him, unconvinced. Ahead, people are starting to take their carry ons down from the overhead compartments.  

 

“ _You're_ the one being weird now, Jesus. Would you quit staring at me? I'm literally just sitting here, I'm not doing anything. Sharpy is messing with you.”

 

Crow frowns, thick brows knitting together like he's no longer sure what to believe. Christ, Jonny has to remember to text Sharpy later and thank him for being such an asshole. It's admirable, his commitment to ruining Jonny’s life, it really is.

 

“Come on,” Jonny nudges him. “Get your bag. We have a game to win tomorrow.”

 

“Fucking USA, too,” Crow hums in agreement. “What a way to start the pre-tournament.”

 

Jonny swallows the smile threatening to spill over his lips. “Yeah, what a way to start,” he agrees, for completely different reasons.

 

He gets to see Patrick in about twelve hours. Things don't seem so bad.

 

***

 

His opinion changes, once they've gotten their asses handed to them by team USA, of course.

 

It was a shitty game - one that they thought they should have won, but they just couldn't seem to get anything to work. With the amount of skill and experience on their line up, it was no excuse.

 

Jonny left the ice feeling frustrated and defeated. He’d caught Patrick’s eye in the handshake lineup. He even offered Jonny the slightest smile as their gloves knocked together.

 

Jonny had tried to return it but it ended up coming out as more of a grimace than anything else, everything weighed down heavily by the disappointing loss.

 

In the locker room Crosby gets up and makes a big speech, does what he does best and reminds the team that it's only the first game of the pre-tournament. It doesn't even count. He reminds them of all they've accomplished together, in Vancouver and Sochi and everywhere before.

 

Jonny ends up feeling a bit better after it's all said and done. And by the time he's all showered and changed, he's not even thinking much about the game anymore.

 

He fumbles around his bag, searching for his phone. When he finally pulls it out he's a bit disappointment to see he hasn't got any missed messages from Patrick. But then again Patrick had offered him a smile and Jonny had done a piss poor job of returning it, so it was probably his responsibility to make the effort here.

 

 _Hey, you around???_ Jonny sends.

 

Truthfully, Jonny had been hoping to have heard from him by now. They'd arrived in Columbus yesterday and he didn't bother to text or anything. The first time he’d seen him had been on the ice for warmups.

 

_Just leaving the rink._

 

Jonny frowns down at the text, trying to decipher it. It's definitely not an invitation. It's actually not much of anything.

 

He wishes he had more pride, but it's been eight fucking months and he wants nothing more than to kiss that stupid smirk right off Patrick’s pretty lips, to bend him over a mattress until he's crying out Jonny’s name.

 

So he sends _what hotel are you staying at?_

 

It feels like forever, sitting in his stall and anxiously awaiting Patrick’s reply as he tunes out the locker room chatter around him. Eventually it does come, though Jonny kind of wishes it never. His body runs cold with rejection.

 

_Super early flight tomorrow. See you in Ottawa_

 

Early flights had never stopped them before - hell, their entire... _whatever it was,_ was primarily based upon them sneaking around between early flights.

 

Maybe Patrick _had_ actually met someone over the off season.

 

It feels like his second loss of the night and Jonny isn't sure which one stings worse.

 

_***_

 

They play USA again the next night, this time winning 5-2.

 

It's a much better feeling filing into the locker room, everyone chattering excitedly about how well the team clicked tonight, and how the rest of the tournament would progress.

 

Jonny’s chatting with Price as he gets all his things together. He's about to shove his phone in his pocket when he notices a text from Patrick.

 

 _Good game_ it says simply.

 

 _You too._ Jonny replies.

 

It's a couple minutes before Patrick replies again. _See you in Toronto, Jonny._

 

_***_

 

_Meet by the ice machine 12th floor in 5 mins_

 

He's in Toronto for approximately twelve hours when he gets the text from Patrick.

 

He's in Crow’s hotel room at the time, with Hammer, Hoss and Breadman, talking about the pre tournament games and who’s going to be someone to watch in the tournament.

 

“Marchand,” Breadman is saying as Jonny checks his phone. “Sneaky fucker.”

 

He nearly drops it as he reads the message. He knew Team USA had arrived to the hotel shortly after they had - he’d seen Oshie earlier and chatted with him for a bit. But he _still_ hadn’t heard from Patrick, despite the fact that they were in the same hotel.

 

The text comes with a giant rush of relief. Patrick probably wasn't having him meet in a discrete location in order to let him down easy.

 

“I gotta... I’ll see you guys later, gotta make a phone call.” He excuses himself and gets up from Crow’s bed.

 

It's approximately a minute and a half later that he gets to the ice machine. He's a bit disappointed not to see Patrick there already, but he had come early.

 

He only has to wait about a minute for Patrick to show up - though it feels like much longer that he's leaning against the machine, hands fidgeting and foot tapping. He's not sure what to do with all his nervous energy and it's ridiculous. It's just _Patrick._

 

But at the same time it's _Patrick._

 

He comes down the hallway wearing his blue USA jacket, zipped all the way to his chin. He's wearing a matching SnapBack and a pair of dark jeans. The outfit looks unfairly good, considering the hideous logo he's sporting on his chest. It's probably pretty telling, how far deep Jonny is in this, if he can find someone so decked out in America clothes, so blindingly attractive.

 

He smiles as soon as he spots Jonny there and Jonny beams back, without even having time to process anything.

 

Yeah, he's so fucking deep in this attraction he has for Patrick.

 

“Hey, you,” Patrick says softly once he's standing in front of Jonny. He's so small and beautiful and Jonny wants to wrap him into a hug right there. The only thing stopping him is the knowledge that there are hundreds of NHL players in the same hotel, many who are big enough assholes to sell him and Patrick out without a second thought.

 

So he settles for just smiling dumbly down at him and saying “hey yourself.”

 

“I've got something for you,” Patrick tells him, jamming one hand into his jacket pocket.

 

“Yeah? I don't have anything for you.”

 

Patrick laughs. “That's alright. This is for both of us.”

 

There's a keycard on his palm when he holds his hand out to Jonny.

 

“I got a second room. It's under my sister's name, so if anyone sees you going in there, it won't be my room. It's on a different floor from the team and everything.”

 

“That’s, damn, that's smarter than I would have given you credit for, Pat,” Jonny teases, taking the keycard and sliding it into his wallet.

 

“Brains _and_ beauty. It's unfair that I'm the entire package, and you've got nothing,” Patrick chirps back. A cocky grin looks good on him.

 

“That's alright, you can be smart and pretty. I’ll settle for being the best hockey player.”

 

“Oh, Jonny, Jonny,” Patrick drawls, taking another step closer so he has to look up at Jonny, batting his eyelashes. It’s probably to close to pass off as a conversation between two rivals - too close for _friends_ even - but Jonny isn't thinking about the risk anymore, just how much he _wants_ . “I seem to remember,” Patrick continues in the same voice. “You saying I had the most _beautiful_ hands you'd ever seen.”

 

Jonny _had_ said that, embarrassingly enough. What's worse was he’d said it _on camera_ , to a TSN reporter at their first all star game. Patrick had just finished the skills competition, blowing everyone away with his dekeing ability. But...

 

“If I seem to remember, I wasn't talking about your _hockey_.” No, Jonny was high on the excitement of seeing Patrick’s hand wrapped around his dick for the first time. He’d been a stupid kid and wanted to mess with Patrick.

 

“Right, well. It's a good thing we have that keycard,” Patrick chuckles, taking a step back. Which is probably the wisest idea. If this continued, Jonny wouldn't be able to stop himself from kissing Patrick right there.

 

“And when exactly do we get to put it to use?”

 

“Have some patience, Jonny,” Patrick winks.

 

“Been patient for _eight months_. Don't want to wait anymore.”

 

Patrick licks his lips - which is incredibly unfair. Jonny wanted this three nights ago in Columbus - he didn't care how much sleep he got or how early his flight was. Patrick seemed to be the one who kept prolonging this. But it had been _eight months,_ Jesus. How much longer could they wait.

 

“I have to go to lunch with the team now, but I want you in the room when I get back, alright? And you better not be wearing any of this Canadian garbage, either,” Patrick adds as he reaches up to flick the Canada logo on Jonny’s polo.

 

“I think everything in my suitcase has a Canada logo on it,” Jonny says truthfully.

 

Patrick rolls his eyes but Jonny’s willing to bet Patrick’s suitcase is equally full with Team USA shit, especially taking into account his current outfit. Patrick gets high off the thrill of international hockey just as much as Jonny does.

 

“Fine. Guess I’ll just have to get you out of all of your clothes then,” Patrick smirks and then turns on his heel to walk away. “Be there in about two hours.”

 

“I'll be there,” Jonny calls after him.

 

Patrick’s laughter and “I bet you will,” fades away as he gets into the elevator. And then he's gone.

 

Jonny’s got a keycard, though, and a promise of finally getting everything he wants. Just has to wait a couple hours.

 

***

 

Jonny gets lunch with a couple of guys from Team Canada and then they end up reviewing some game tape in their lounge. It's a good way to kill two hours, Jonny is almost able to focus on what Sid is saying most of the time.

 

When the alarm on his phone goes off, he jumps up so quickly that everyone turns to give him a confused look.

 

He probably should have had an excuse ready to go, but he's left standing there dumbly, unsure what to say.

 

He silences his alarm to buy himself a minute.

 

“I’ll be back in a bit,” he finally manages. Maybe simple is better, less likely to be caught in a lie that way.

 

Crow studies him carefully from across the room but doesn't say anything as he leaves.

 

 _Be there in a min_ Patrick texts him just as Jonny walks into the room. It's empty and untouched, as if no one were staying in it.

 

Jonny sits on the edge of the bed and plays his turns on Words with Friends while he waits. He's totally kicking Seabs’ ass.

 

“Hey, no Canada!” Patrick gleams as he walks in and looks over Jonny’s outfit - a white t-shirt pair of faded jeans. “Looks like I won't have to take your clothes off after all.”

 

“Don't have too, still more than welcome too though.”

 

“Oh Jonathan, I bet you say that to all the boys,” Patrick teases, coming over and planting himself into Jonny’s lap.

 

“Yeah, I was actually just in Ovechkin's room saying the exact same thing,” Jonny hums back, lips brushing over Patrick’s shoulder blade.

 

“Oh, gross.” Patrick shoves Jonny a bit, nose scrunched up. “I'm leaving.”

 

“He's a lot nicer than you.” Jonny tightens his hold on Patrick’s waist, not allowing him to move. “He actually likes me.”

 

Patrick stops struggling and turns slowly to face Jonny. “I like you, Jonny,” he smirks.

 

“Is that so?”

 

Patrick nods. They've both moved in so close that their lips are practically touching.

 

“Good,” Jonny breathes out before closing the gap and finally bringing their mouths together.

 

It's so familiar, the taste and feel of Patrick, the little sounds he makes as Jonny kisses him, the way his hands feel their way up Jonny’s back, fingernails digging in.

 

It doesn't matter how long it's been, Jonny will never forget any of these details.

 

It all feels so new at the same time. Butterflies flutter through Jonny’s stomach, making him tremble as he touches Patrick. He's happy to keep kissing him, not rush into anything else just yet.

 

***

 

“God, let’s not wait so long to do that again next time,” Patrick mumbles through the arm he's got throw over his eyes. He's breathing heavily, red splotches taking over his heaving chest. He always looks like this post orgasm, exhausted like he’d played three overtimes.

 

“Yeah,” Jonny grunts in agreement. “Should have told me what hotel you were staying at the other night.”

 

Patrick snorts. “Knew you were hung up on that. It was an early flight, all the guys were going to be around. It would have been impossible to meet up and you know it.”

 

 _“_ I thought you may have like, met someone.” Jonny mutters despite himself.

 

Patrick gives him an alarmed look. “Who would I _meet?_ ”

 

Jonny shrugs. “I don't know.” He looks down at his feet, embarrassed by his admittance. He peeks up just in time to see a bright smile slide over Patrick’s face.

  

“Who would I meet, Jonny?” He says in a teasing voice. “Who would I meet?”

 

Jonny rolls his eyes and looks away. Next thing he knows, he's being hit with the impact of Patrick tackling him, giggling as he pinches at Jonny’s side. It turns into wrestling match of sorts, Patrick repeating the words “who would I meet” as they both gasp through laughter.

 

“I...don't... know,” Jonny eventually manages between laughs as Patrick sits on his chest, wiggling his butt against jonny’s abdomen. “Someone you actually want to be with.”

 

The blinding smile that had lit up Patrick’s entire face faded quickly, replaced by something Jonny couldn't understand. He slid off his chest, stretching out his shoulders as he murmured “oh. No, I didn't meet anybody. Not yet, anyway. You're safe for now.”

 

“Good,” Jonny responds as he sits up. He hopes it doesn't sound as hollow as it feels. It's not like he ever thought this would go on forever; Patrick meeting someone has always been an annoying nagging in the back of his mind. It sucks to hear it confirmed from Patrick’s lips though; it gives the feeling of a big finish line waiting for Jonny, the end of a ride that's been so good.

 

But he's safe for now and he’ll have to take that.

 

“You coming back tonight? After the red carpet?” Patrick asks, breaking Jonny from his thoughts.

 

“Yeah, of course,” Jonny smiles back. It's enough to make him forget all about the ominous _someday_ and focus on right here, right now, tonight and the next two weeks. He’s going to take as much as he can get.

 

“Oh Jonny, what am I going to do with the likes of you?” Patrick asks, giving a big exasperated sigh like Jonny is the most difficult person in the world.

 

“What am _I_ going to do with _you?_

 

“Two weeks,” Patrick smirks as he pats Jonny’s cheek with his palm. “You sure you aren't going to get sick of me?”

 

Jonny swallows back the _hell no_ that threatens to spill embarrassingly from his lips. He shrugs, feigning casual and says “I think I can handle it.”

 

***

 

“Fuck,” Jonny groans as his alarm starts to go off. He buries himself deeper, trying to block out the noise.

 

“Turn that shit off,” Patrick mumbles sleepily.

 

Jonny blinks a few times. It takes a moment to realize he was nuzzling into Patrick, that he was currently wrapped around him as the bigger spoon.

 

“You turn it off,” Jonny answers. “You're closer.”

 

“It's _your_ alarm!” Patrick protests.

 

Jonny surrenders, pushing himself up and looming over Patrick as he fumbles with his phone on the night stand table, trying to silence it. He flops back down once it's quiet.

 

His head is throbbing dully, the remainders of the headache he’d gotten from the red carpet the night before. It had been kind of crazy, the packed crowd and screaming fans. No matter how many times he did things like that, he could never quite get used to them. It was different than a cheering arena, somehow. Maybe it was because he didn't have his helmet to shield him.

 

“I've got to go,” Jonny says reluctantly. He wants to stay here, curled around Patrick and his warmth.

 

Patrick's response is incoherent, signaling the fact that he’s already fallen back asleep. Jonny forces himself up and gets dressed, trying to be as quiet as possible. He's got an early morning skate and needs to be at the rink in an hour. But he needs to get down to his room before any of his teammates are up and wondering why he's not sleeping there.

 

He leans down to give Patrick a kiss on the forehead before he goes, admiring the peaceful look on his face.

 

He wants nothing more than to be able to spend the next hour in bed until he has to leave. It sucks that they still have to do so much hiding.

 

“See you later,” Patrick mumbles as Jonny pulls his lips away from Patrick’s forehead.

 

“Yeah,” Jonny smiles back. “See you later.”

 

It's not goodbye this time, as Jonny leaves before dawn. It's not going to be months before they get to see each other again. It could be _hours_ and the feeling is overwhelming. Jonny's smiling the entire ride down the elevator to his own floor.

 

It's weird to think about how they've been doing this for seven years, but in total their time together adds up to a little over a month at most.

 

The first time in Montreal feels like an entirely different lifetime ago, but at the same time like it were yesterday. Like the last seven years had just zipped by him without even realizing it.

 

Sometimes Jonny wonders what would have happened, if the circumstances were different. If they weren't two famous hockey players living miles apart.

 

Maybe they would have met and Jonny would have fallen in love with him. Maybe they would have crashed and burned and Jonny would be with someone entirely different by now.

 

Maybe their relationship was only one of convenience. Maybe they're together because they're too afraid of being with someone else. Or too afraid of being completely alone.

 

Whatever reason they keep doing this, Jonny likes it. He doesn't know what it even is, but he likes it and he likes Patrick and he doesn't want this to end anytime soon.

 

***

 

Jonny watches Patrick’s game from his hotel room instead of having his pregame nap.

 

He feels conflicted the entire time - he wants Patrick to do well of course. _But_ as a born and bred Canadian, he can't help but find himself rooting again team USA. It's just in his nature.

 

          The want to make Patrick smile is pretty well ingrained in him now too though. The expression on Patrick’s face can only be summed up by the word _devastated_ as the time runs out on the clock, leaving them shut out. It leaves a pit in Jonny’s stomach.

 

          He's so tempted to reach out and text Patrick, to try and make him feel better somehow. He doesn't. There's nothing he can say to fix this. If it were him he’d want time alone to brood then somehow psych himself up to do better the next game.

 

          He doesn't know how Patrick copes with loss (aside from that one time in Madison that Jonny like to pretend never happened.)

 

         It's just one more thing he doesn't know about Patrick. He knows what his curls look like in the morning when he first wakes up, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles at something stupid Jonny said, or the bashful smile when Jonny says something a little too sweet. He knows how his voice sounds when he's trying to be sexy, and the little sounds he makes while he comes that are _actually_ sexy.

 

          The  little things that Jonny knows that nobody else gets to see. But there's a huge part of Patrick that gets shared with so many people, a part Jonny never gets to see. (And a part of himself he’s never shared with Patrick.)

 

         He knows Patrick has three younger sisters, but nothing about them. He can't even really remember their names. He knows that Patrick is close with his family, but not if they know about him and Jonny. He doesn't even know if he's out to them.

 

        He knows Patrick for a night and the Patrick in the media. But there's this giant middle piece of the puzzle he has no clue about. Even after seven years. It's sort of dysfunctional, what they've been doing.

 

          And it's starting to give him a headache, when he really should be focused on his upcoming game. Not whether Patrick’s sister is Emma or Erica.

 

*****

 

“Fuck yeah,” Jonny says to himself as he unlaces his skates, high off a win and scoring a goal. It’d been six years since he’d played with this, in a Canada jersey in front of a Canadian crowd.

 

The locker room is hyped, everyone talking about what they're going to do to celebrate. Jonny’s in on the conversation, throwing out suggestions until he checks his phone and sees a text from Patrick.

 

**Nice goal. I'm heading up to the room, if you want to join.**

 

It should be a tough decision - going out to celebrate with his boys, or meeting up with Patrick.

 

It should be hard, he should have to think about it. But it's not, he finds himself easily telling the group that he's out.

 

“We’ve got tons of wins left in us,” he assures them. “I'm going to head back and rest.”

 

Someone comments about Captain Serious, a moniker he can't seem to shake thanks to Sharpy. He _could_ just say he's meeting up with someone, getting laid. If there's anything hockey players consider a good reason for skipping a post game celebration, it's the possibility of getting laid.

 

But it's not just the sex. That's not what makes his decision so easy - it's Patrick, and the feeling he gets when he's with him. It feels _wrong_ , lying about meeting some girl when it's Patrick waiting for him.

 

 **Gonna shower then i’ll be there** he sends back.

 

****

 

Patrick isn't in the best of moods when Jonny finally arrives back at the hotel.

 

He meets Jonny at the door with a soft kiss, but he seems tired. The kiss doesn't progress anywhere, just the two of them standing with their hands by their sides, mouths slowly moving against each other.

 

Patrick doesn't seem up for much else, which is fine with Jonny. It was a long day, it's late, Team USA had a shitty loss. If it were him, he’d be pretty down himself.

 

It's just... he's not sure what they're supposed to do instead. They've never had time like this before, where they didn't feel like the clock was ticking and they needed to rush to get off before someone had to catch a plane.

 

It's nice, though, without the pressure of time. Jonny pulls back from the kiss and smiles at Patrick for a moment before saying “want to watch a movie?”

 

Patrick looks surprised for a second but then he smiles back. “That sounds nice.”

 

They pick a shitty comedy that makes them both laugh weakly. Patrick spends the entire movie snuggled up against Jonny’s side, his head on his chest. Jonny’s fingers trace small patterns on the small of his back, almost subconsciously as if it were something they did all of the time. It's nice, and it may be the closest Jonny has ever felt to having a real relationship.

 

As the ending credits roll, Patrick swivels around so he can press a soft kiss to Jonny’s lips and says “thanks. It was a shitty day, but this helped. So.. thanks.”

 

“Anytime,” Jonny replies, breath fanning over Patrick’s shoulder. He wants to mean it - wants to be able to do this every time Patrick is sad. He wants to always be able to be there for him, to make him smile. But he can't.

 

They end up having slow sex, Patrick on his back and Jonny on top as they continued to kiss lightly. It takes a while for both of them to get off. It's so different from their usual routine - urgent and frantic, trying to get every part of each other as quickly as they could to make up for all the lost time.

 

They order room service after and eat in while sitting crossed legged across from each other on the bed. Jonny gets a steak and steamed vegetables but ends up eating half of Patrick’s fries.

 

Jonny thinks back to that morning, thinking about all the things he didn't know about Patrick. Suddenly, he wants to know so fiercely. He wants to know about what it was like growing up in Buffalo, how he started playing hockey and what got him to this point. He wants to know what teenage Patrick was like. He wants to know all kinds of stupid things like what traditions his family had on Christmas morning. Things you should know about a person you've been sleeping with for seven years. Things a real boyfriend would know, even if that's not what they were or what they would ever be.

 

It's not that Jonny even wants all that, at least he's not sure he does. He never has before. It's far too complicated to change what they have now. But for just one night, Jonny wants to have Patrick like that.

 

There's so many things he wants to ask that he can't think of a single way to start.

 

“So, how was your summer?” He eventually settles on, feeling like it's cautious enough that it won't freak Patrick out.

 

“Good,” Patrick says. He pauses for a minute, long enough that Jonny starts to think that's all he's going to say and he won't get to learn anything about Patrick after all. But then Patrick says “I spent most of it on the lake with my sisters, when I wasn't training. Jackie came home for the summer from school, brought this douchey boyfriend with her. She told Jess she thinks he's like, the one or some shit. I don't like him though.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“I don't know, he's just douchey. Like, he just doesn't treat her how he should. He should feel lucky to be with someone like Jacks - plus, he doesn't even like hockey. I don't know if I can trust someone who doesn't like hockey.”

 

“He's American, right? Do many Americans like hockey?” Jonny asks, only half teasing.

 

Patrick rolls his eyes. “Asshole.”

 

“Would you rather she date a hockey player?” Jonny points out, knowing very well how big of assholes hockey players could be.

 

Patrick makes a disgusted face. “No, of course not. I have a no hockey players rule. But I’d just like for him to _like_ hockey.”

 

“You have a lot of opinions about who your sisters should date,” Jonny muses.

 

“Well, _yeah_ , they're my sisters. We’re super close. I'm protective over them.”

 

“Do they, um, know about...us?” Jonny stammers out, taking a sip of his water.

 

“I don't know,” Patrick shrugs, picking at the blanket and not meeting Jonny’s eyes. “I told them, years ago. After the all star game. They were young, then. Thought we were star crossed lovers or something stupid. I don’t... I don't know if they still know that we’re, yeah. They’d probably be pretty judgemental about the whole thing.”

 

“Would they complain about how douchey I am? Do they have a lot of opinions on who you should date?” Jonny’s trying to come off as teasing, but he's actually a little offended. He would like for Patrick’s sisters to think he was good enough for him.

 

Patrick whacks him in the shoulder. “ _No_ ,” he laughs. “They actually thought you were super handsome, or something. I mean, they were wrong, don't get a big head. But yeah. I just, I meant they wouldn't understand. They’d judge, like, the fact that we weren't together or something. I don't know. It's stupid.”

 

“It's tough to understand when you've never been in the situation,” Jonny agrees.

 

Patrick hums in response. “What about you? Anyone know?”

 

“Aside from a few guys on the team, no. I’m out to my parents and brother. My mom keeps trying to convince me to date. She doesn't really understand either, I guess.” Jonny picks at a loose thread in the comforter.

 

“Hard to date when you can't tell anyone you're gay,” Patrick says, sounding sad.

 

It's weird that they're having this conversation seven years in. They should have had it years ago.

 

*****

 

Their next game is against each other. But as the other games progress, it's decided that USA must beat Canada if they want to continue on in the tournament.

 

Even though they have a couple days off, they still don't see much of each other during the day. Jonny spends it at practice, or with Team Canada. Patrick does the same with Team USA. Every night though, Jonny sneaks up to their room and then back down early the next morning. It's still not ideal, and Jonny feels heavy with the unfairness of it all - that Patrick is so close but he still can't have him. Because of hockey and people's fucked up opinions.

 

But it's more of Patrick than he's ever gotten before. It's Patrick, curled up against him every morning, without a sunrise that means saying goodbye for months.

 

They don't spend the night before their game together, which is kind of both of their idea and a good one at that.

 

Jonny gives him a slight nod when they reach the ice, both of them on the starting line up. Patrick nods back with the tiniest hint of a smile, so small Jonny thinks he may have imagined it.

 

And then the whistle blows and Jonny’s battling for the puck, not thinking about Patrick anymore, brain completely focused on the game like he's trained to do.

 

It's a great game for Canada. Team USA battled hard, but in the end they were no match.

 

Jonny catches a glimpse of the broken look on Patrick’s face as he sits on the bench and let's their knock out wash over him.

 

He skates over to celebrate with his team because that's what he's meant to do, and he's ecstatic about the win even if it hurts Patrick. He can't help but feel a little guilty about it, though.

 

He's not sure if he should text Patrick afterwards. He doesn't end up doing so, decides it's best to let Patrick reach out to him if he wants too.

 

He goes out for a few celebratory drinks with the team in the hotel bar and doesn't hear from Patrick. When he gets back to his hotel, he calls his mom and talks to her for a while. He still doesn't hear from Patrick.

 

It's not until he gives up and goes to bed, nearly drifting off, that his phone buzzes with a text from Patrick.

 

**U still up?**

 

 **Yeah** Jonny sends back.

 

**Come up**

 

Patrick kisses him as soon as he walks through the door, quick and hot. He doesn't say a word to Jonny.

 

They have rushed sex, not even getting fully undressed. Patrick leads most of it. It's over pretty quickly.

 

After they're done, Patrick gets up and says “I'm getting a shower” without even looking at Jonny.

 

He's gone for a long time, leaving Jonny alone in the bed with nothing to do. It's probably not the best decision, but after about twenty five minutes he just gets up to leave. He's not used to things feeling awkward and shit between them.

 

It's not the first time Canada had beaten USA in an important game. There was Vancouver when they won in OT to get the gold medal. But they had been way too young and shit baked to try and meet up then, especially with their families all around. And then in Sochi, they had tried seeing each other. They made special plans to get around their families. They hadn’t planned on _Sharpy_ walking in on them though. After that he had forced them apart the entire tournament. So even though Jonny had beat Patrick before, they’d never actually seen each other while the wound was still fresh.

 

He thinks about texting Patrick, giving an excuse for leaving. But he decides not to, at a loss for what to say.

 

Patrick doesn't text him either, doesn't ask where he went.

 

*****

 

He sees Patrick the next morning, in the lobby of the hotel.

 

He tries a smile but Patrick just glares and looks away.

 

Jonny isn't sure if he's pissed off because he lost, or because Jonny left.

 

He doesn't even know how to _ask_ Patrick. It's been seven years of casual hookups, making each other laugh and chirping each other. They've never had an argument or fight or anything like that. They never had the _chance_ to argue.

 

He should go up to Patrick and try to talk it out, to work through what it was that threw them out of sync. Whatever this is, this thing between them, Jonny obviously cares about Patrick. It's more than just sex, and he doesn't want to fight with him.

 

Instead, Jonny does the cowardly thing and walks away, trailing behind Crow as they head to the conference room that hosts Team Canada.  

 

*****

 

The interaction weighs heavy on Jonny for the remainder of the morning.

 

He gives in right before skate and texts Patrick. He just says sorry, not for anything specific.

 

He sits in his stall for a few minutes, fully dressed and skates tied. He keeps glancing down at his phone, waiting for some kind of reply from Patrick. An acceptance, or even just _fuck off_ so Jonny would know to leave him alone. This not knowing what Patrick wants or what he's supposed to say is the worst.

 

“Get your ass up,” Price calls to him, knocking his shin with his stick as he passes by.

 

Jonny tosses his phone into his bag with a sigh and follows Price out onto the ice.

 

It's a good skate, tough but satisfying. Everything seems to be connecting, the team is still fired up and ready to go.

 

Jonny’s distracted though, mind often drifting to Patrick and whether or not this is the end of their...whatever.

 

Maybe it's for the best. Suddenly it's starting to feel like a relationship, and this is why Jonny has never had time for a relationship. This distraction and worry that's keeping him from hockey.

 

He completely botches a slap shot, sending it way over the net.

 

It's not worth it, he decides then. No matter how soft Patrick’s lips are, if it's going to start affecting his hockey. It's not worth it.

 

Things were fine when things were _good_. But now they're fighting and Jonny’s honestly happy Patrick never replied to him. They both just need a clean break, to leave this shit in the past.

 

 _Great_ , Jonny thinks as he sends another slap shot barreling towards the net. _This is good. This is great._

 

It smacks against the post with a clank. Jonny smacks the blade of his stick on the ice and skates off, gritting his teeth.

 

 _Things are fucking great_ , he repeats to himself. Jonny’s gotten good at lying to himself, so good he nearly believes it.

 

*****

 

Jonny’s rummaging around for his phone before he even starts taking off any of his gear. His entire body relaxes with tension he hadn’t realized he was carrying, as he reads the text message from Patrick.

 

**It’s OK. Come over after ur game?**

 

And all that shit about being better off, putting an end to it all, Jonny forgets all of that, instead just smiles dumbly down at his phone. Whatever is going to happen in the future, he’s going to get at least one more night of holding Patrick in his arms as they sleep.

 

Jonny goes out and wins his game, celebrates a bit after with his team, and then ducks out as quickly as possible to head back to the hotel.

 

Patrick smiles sadly at Jonny as he opens the door, and Jonny doesn’t know what to say, so he just pulls him into a hug instead. Patrick is tense at first, arms hung by his side. After a moment he melts into it, collapsing his body weight on to Jonny and wrapping his arms around his waist.

 

“Fucking sucks,” Patrick breathes out, breath fanning over Jonny’s neck.

 

Jonny nods into Patrick’s curls, pulling him tighter. “I’m sorry,” he says.

 

Patrick laughs lightly at that, but it’s mostly without humour. “You shouldn’t be. You did what you had to do.”

 

“I’m not sorry that we won,” Jonny agrees, because he’s not. Whatever he feels for Patrick, it doesn’t change the fact that this is what he worked his entire life for. He’s given up so much to have hockey and he’s not about to let that go for anything, but. “I’m sorry that you had to lose.”

 

Patrick pulls back and looks at Jonny through misty eyes. “Guess this means our two weeks are going to be cut short, huh?”

 

Jonny doesn’t want to think about that. With a sigh he goes to sit on the edge of the bed. Patrick follows. “We don’t play each other again until January,” Jonny mumbles, hating the way his voice cracks at the end.

 

Patrick climbs into his lap, eyes locked on Jonny’s. He runs his fingers through Jonny’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp before saying: “Well, then let’s make the most of the time we have now.” And then he kisses Jonny, soft and sweet and perfect.

 

*****

 

Jonny watches as the time on the clock runs out, making it official. Team USA had gone 0-3 in the tournament, not winning a single game.

 

It wouldn’t have changed anything if they _did_ win, they were already knocked out, but Jonny knows that Patrick at least wanted to get one win in. He didn’t want to head home, completely defeated.

 

The camera lingers on Patrick, sitting on the bench and looking up at the ceiling, face completely broken. It stays on him far too long, so long that Jonny thinks that maybe Sharpy is the cameraman, trying to torture him with Patrick’s pain.

 

Eventually it pans away from him, to the celebrating team on the other side of the ice.

 

Selfishly, Jonny had been partly wanting USA to win for himself. Patrick is leaving very early in the morning, hoping on a flight back to training camp. This would be their last night together; and now Jonny’s not sure if Patrick is even going to want to see him.

 

Jonny wouldn't blame him, as someone who hates losing more than anything. But it would suck all the same.

 

Sure enough, though, Patrick texts him a while later, saying to come to his room.

 

 **Your room or our room?** Jonny texts back, frowning at his phone. Usually Patrick calls it their room.

 

**My room.**

 

With all the Team USA players around, that's probably the last thing in the world Jonny would want to do.

 

But Patrick was there. So...

 

“What the fuck are you doing up here, Toews?”

 

Jonny doesn't even have to look up from the elevator floor to know it's Kessler standing on the other side of the opening doors.

 

Pavelski is standing next to him, and he doesn't look as pissed. Less likely to punch him in the face than Kessler. Pavelski just looks drained, which Jonny can sympathize with.

 

“Good luck with the rest,” he tells Jonny. “We’ll be rooting against you.”

 

Jonny nods, making a face that can only be described as a half grimace, half smile. “Wouldn't have it any other way.”

 

Pavelski grunts at Kessler to get going. He follows behind, but still watches Jonny over his shoulder with narrowed eyes as he walks down the hallway.

 

Jonny stays still, not moving until they disappear. The last thing he needs is Kessler to see him to into Patrick’s room. There isn't anyone in the world that Jonny can think of who hates him more than Kessler. If anyone were going to sell him out for his sexuality, Jonny would bet on Kessler.

 

“I think Kessler is going to try to murder me one of these days,” Jonny muses as Patrick lets him into his room.

 

Patrick throws him a quizzical look.

 

“Just ran into him. He wasn't too happy to see me,” Jonny clarifies.

 

“Nah, can't blame him. I don't want to see any pricks from team Canada either,” Patrick grumbles as he starts throwing things into his suitcase.

 

Jonny swallows hard at the sight, a giant reminder that Patrick is leaving.

 

“Guess I’ll just leave then?” Jonny quips back.

 

“Obviously you don't count,” Patrick says easily.

 

“No?”

 

Patrick stops what he's doing, lays down the jeans he was in the middle of rolling. “No, you're special.”

 

The emotions that engulf Jonny then are a little too much to handle. He leans back on the edge of Patrick’s bed. To ease it, he says “Kessler doesn't seem to think so.”

 

Patrick rolls his eyes and swats at Jonny’s shoulder. “Kessler is an asshole. Come on, I'm leaving tomorrow. I don't want to talk about Kessler, or the fact that fucking Canada is going to win again.”

 

Jonny pulls his smile into his mouth. “What do you want to talk about, then?”

 

“I don't want to talk at all,” Patrick amends, moving over so he's standing in front of Jonny, leaning his weight against Jonny’s bent knees. Jonny tips his face up so Patrick can have access to his mouth and Patrick wastes no time before connecting his own. The kiss softly, tongues running over each other's lips. Jonny reaches up and fists the back of Patrick’s tshirt, pulling him closer.

 

Jonny tries to get lost in it, the feeling of Patrick against him, warm and solid and _there_ . But he's stuck on how quick it all past them by. He’s been looking forward to it for _eight months_ , and now it's done. All he has left to look forward to are a few nights together throughout the season.

 

He wants to ask Patrick to see him, when they don't have a game. To actually spend time with him when hockey isn't bringing them together. But it feels like a lot, like he’d been shifting the balance of what they’ve created.

 

It feels like something he's afraid to feel. Maybe it's too late for that though. Maybe he's in deeper than he thought.

 

He tries to stop thinking about it as he bends Patrick over the bed but he _can't._ The emotions take over everything he does, make him want to memorize every rise of fall of Patrick’s heaving chest, every sound that escapes from his opened mouth.

 

When it's over, they curl together and Jonny tries to memorize how that feels too. Patrick’s curls stuffed into his face, his sleepy voice as he drifts to sleep.

 

The next morning comes way too fast. One minute Jonny is holding Patrick, and the next his fist is clenched around the doorknob, so tightly that it's starting to turn white. “January fifth,” he's saying. The next time they’ll see each other.

 

Patrick sucks the bottom lip into his mouth. “January fifth,” he echoes. “Not so far.” His voice cracks on the word _far_ and Jonny knows he's got to get out of there or he's going to lose it.

 

“See you then, Pat,” he says before stepping out and closing the door behind him. Fat, wet tears streak his cheeks without him even realizing. He wipes them away quickly as he hurries down the hallway, eyes glued to the ugly carpet.

 

It feels harder this time, if that's even possible. It's like the more he gets of Patrick, the more he wants. He can't get enough.

 

January fifth. Not so far away.  


End file.
